


somehow i feel you here beside me, even though you're not there

by heynineteen



Category: GOT7
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, M/M, Pining, post-disbandment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heynineteen/pseuds/heynineteen
Summary: Jackson writes Jinyoung a letter.
Relationships: Park Jinyoung/Jackson Wang
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	somehow i feel you here beside me, even though you're not there

**Author's Note:**

> tw // mentions of sadness and being down and all
> 
> i was feeling very down and sad today, so i decided to write something sad as well in order to....ride out this wave of sadness? if that makes sense?? this fic was really just a way for me to cope with all the sadness so i apologize since i know it's not my best work. banged this out in 3 hours or so just to yeah be ~one with sadness~ and it kinda helped i think. so yeah haha also this work is unbeta-ed. so any mistakes are mine and all.
> 
> also, the title is from michelle branch's song "leap of faith." i discovered this gem less than a week ago and i found myself drawn to this song bc... it feels like a sad song? and i was sad. so yes i guess that's why i was drawn to it.

_ Dearest Jinyoungie~ _

_ It’s been a while since I’ve been in Korea. I’m writing this on the plane back home though, so it won’t be long before I finally step onto Korean soil. _

_ Even after all these years, I still haven’t gotten used to traveling. It’s weird - you’d think that after several world tours and constantly going back and forth from China to Korea, I’d get used to it. But I still haven’t. It’s still hard for me to fall asleep when I’m up in the air; I miss non-airplane food, I hate that feeling you get in your ears and you have to hold in your breath until it disappears and… yeah. I love the places traveling gets me to, the people it allows me to meet and see, but I hate the actual traveling part. _

_ It’s gotten even worse after we all went our separate ways. Because before, there was at least Bambam and Yugyeom’s antics to look forward to, or the conversations we’d have to pass time, or the games we’d play when we all got bored. Do you remember the time Bambam and Yugyeom were being so loud that it woke Jaebeom-hyung up from his nap, and he looked about ready to murder them? It was funny, the expression on those two’s faces when they realized they’d woken Jaebeom-hyung up. I still think about it from time to time when I need something to pick me up. _

_ Now, it’s just me and my manager traveling, and the rest of the team. And though I enjoy their company, it just isn’t the same as when I’m with you guys. Sometimes it’s still hard for me to believe that I’m nearly forty - it feels as if it was just yesterday that we were all living together and spending endless hours in the practice room, trying to perfect our performances. _

_ I’m grateful for everything that’s happened in my life so far. But sometimes, I wish I could go back to those days, you know? Life was just so much simpler back then, and whatever hardships we faced were made easier since we always faced them together. I wish I could go back to those days where we were all just getting to know each other and trying to improve enough in time for our debut, though I don’t miss those days as much as I miss the times where we had already debuted. And though everything was a bit harder once we debuted - a lot more was at stake, everything we’d been working towards was already happening, we didn’t just sing and dance and make music, but we had to guest on shows and film stuff and eventually - I find that it’s these times I miss the most. Since we were all together during that time. And though we still meet up often, it’s different from when we were together almost 24/7. _

_ I wish I could go back to the nights we spent in the living room, just talking about all our fears and being tired. I miss the noise of the dorms, us tiptoeing around Jaebeom-hyung early in the morning. I miss waking up in the middle of the night only to see Mark and Youngjae still up, battling it out on one last game. I miss Bambam and Yugyeom’s weird ideas. _

_ And most of all, I miss you. I miss asking you for a hug, and the conversations we have at night when we both couldn’t sleep. I miss bickering with you and you making fun of me and making you laugh. I was extremely sad when we disbanded, even though it was something we all agreed on, and I remember crying myself to sleep almost every night for a month or two after we separated. But you managed to make it better - I was so glad you’d moved in with me for that time. You helped make everything a little easier, and with each passing day it hurt a little less. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. _

_ I mean, living with you did have some of its downsides. It was always hard to find my things since you always rearranged it to make it look neater - but I’m telling you Jinyoungie! There’s an organization to that mess. I know where everything is! - and it also made hiding - _

“Excuse me, Sir?”

Jackson looks up to see the apologetic smile of the flight attendant. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to put your writing to a halt,” she says ruefully, pointing towards the big screen at the front of the cabin that -  _ oh.  _ “We’re about to land soon,” she explains, seeing the recognition dawn on Jackson’s face. “So you’ll have to put your tray up.”

Jackson gives her a salute and a little wave, grinning widely. “Will do!” 

He watches as an amused expression spreads across her face before she leaves - probably to check on other passengers, Jackson muses. He carefully folds the paper he’d been writing on, tucking it into the envelope on the tray, which then goes into his jacket, and puts his tray up. 

He sneaks a glance out the window. It’s still all blue and clouds outside, but he’s sure that if he looks again in a while, he’ll make out the various buildings and houses staring up at him.

He sighs and closes his eyes, preparing himself for the jerk of the plane as it lands. 

Around twenty years of traveling, and he still had to shut his eyes as the plane landed.

* * *

Jackson makes his way through the crowd, waving every now and then at the crowd. Flashes go off, he sees a sea of phones, and he hears his name being called in all directions.

But unlike traveling, dealing with crowds and paparazzi and fans is something he’d gotten used to. He knows what to do in situations like these: smile, wave a bit, and never, ever, lose sight of his manager.

He lets out a relieved sigh as the car door closes, and rests his head against the window as they drive away. Though he’s used to crowds, it’s still something that can drain him at times, especially after a long flight.

He feels for his phone - where had he put it? - and finds it shoved in his handbag. He unlocks the screen and checks his messages - one from his mom asking if he’d arrived safely, several from his team updating him on the current Team Wang clothing designs, one from Mark, wishing him a safe flight and telling him to rest, and one from Youngjae, telling him about his current project at the agency. He’s just finished replying to Youngjae’s messages when a call comes in.

Jackson feels something tug at his heartstrings, and he can’t help the smile that suddenly blooms across his face.

“Jinyoungie!” he exclaims.

“Sseun-ah!” Jackson can’t see him, but he can hear the smile in Jinyoung’s voice. “Did you just land?”

“No,” Jackson replied, toying with the zipper on his jacket. “I landed about half an hour ago. I’m already on my way home,” Jackson looks out the car window and at the watch on his arm. “I think I’ll get home in around half an hour, there doesn’t seem to be much traffic today.”

“I’m glad--” Jinyoung is cut off by the sound of something falling in the background. He manages a muffled “Wait,” before putting Jackson on hold. Jackson stares idly outside the window as he waits for Jinyoung to return. It doesn’t take long until he hears Jinyoung’s breathless voice.

“I’m sorry - Sseun-ah? You still there?”

“Yup,” Jackson answers cheerfully. “It’s fine Nyoungie - is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung chuckles. “Annie just accidentally knocked over a stack of books on my desk.”

Jackson smiles at the mention of Annie. She was so much like Jinyoung - appearing calm and quiet, but with a hidden mischievous side to her, and she loved to hide her giggles with her hand as well.

“I miss Annie,” Jackson sighs, a mix of both wistful and sad, scratching at his jeans. “It’s been so long since I’ve last seen her.”

“She misses you too,” Jinyoung’s voice is tender, filled with affection, and Jackson feels his heart clench painfully. “I’ve missed you too. A lot.”

Jackson’s about to reply that yes, he’s missed Jinyoung too very much so - when Jinyoung’s next words cut him off. “I’m sorry we couldn’t meet today, Sseunie,” he says regretfully. “Why’d you have to come back on the day of my anniversary?” he complains, his fond tone betraying his words.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson says lightly, trying to keep his tone casual, making sure his voice doesn’t waver. He ignores the way his heart is beating inside his chest, the way his feelings beat around, demanding to be set free. “Everyone couldn’t get enough of me,” he joked. “And I had guestings until yesterday. But I also wanted to get back right away, so…” he trails off.

Jackson hears a sigh over the phone, and he’s willing to bet that Jinyoung’s rolling his eyes right now. “Still as arrogant as ever, I see.” he teases, which makes Jackson grin despite himself.

“Sometimes,” Jinyoung continues. “I think we shouldn’t have disbanded. Now, you’re out there performing and meeting fans and guesting on shows with no one to keep you grounded,” he says woefully, a giggle escaping towards the end.

Jackson ignores the lump in his throat. “You guys just miss me,” he counters.

He hears an exhale on the other end of the line. “Yeah,” Jinyoung says shakily. “We’ve really missed you Sseun-ah.” 

“I’ve missed you all too, so much,” Jackson says, feeling tears prickle at the corner of his eyes.

“Let’s all meet up soon, okay?” Jinyoung murmurs. “And we should meet up as well, just the two of us - I’ll treat you to some meat.”

“Free meat? Count me in,” Jackson replies, suddenly chipper, which elicits a laugh from Jinyoung. Jackson’s quiet, relishing the familiar sound of Jinyoung’s laugh, when Jinyoung’s voice breaks through his thoughts.

“Sseun-ah? I have to go soon,” Jinyoung says apologetically. “Jaebeom’s picking me up soon, and I need to get ready.”

“Go, go,” Jackson says, and he feels something inside of him wither. “Let’s talk some other time.”

“Bye, Sseunie,” Jinyoung says, voice so soft. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

The feelings that flitted around his chest not too long ago have shriveled into nothingness, leaving behind an eerie silence, emptiness. Jackson tries to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest, a big gaping hole where his heart’s been ripped out from his chest, where now only memories of heartbeats remain.

* * *

He slots the key into the lock and steps into his apartment.

It’s empty. Bare. It doesn’t look lived in. No one’s stepped inside the past six months he’d been away.

Jackson gingerly takes off his shoes and pads over to his bedroom. He misses the times when he’d come home to the dorms and Youngjae was still awake in the living room, working on his music or playing games. He misses the times where he’d come home to the rest of the members waiting for him, ready to tackle him with hugs the moment he steps foot in the doorway. He misses the times where Jinyoung would wait up for him with some pizza during their brief stint as roommates post-disbandment.

It’s eerily silent, and it serves as a reminder of how much things have changed. How they’ve all grown up and gone their separate ways.

Jackson wishes he could go back, to when everything was much simpler.

He sits down on the bed and pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s been years - his body’s changing; though he’s fit, he isn’t as agile as he once was, and he tires out a lot more easily after dance practice, and he can see the faint beginnings of wrinkles at the corner of his eyes - it’s been years, but he still hasn’t gotten used to silence. It gets louder and louder with each passing year; today it’s almost deafening.

He kneels down to tug at a shoebox hidden underneath his bed.

There’s just a faint layer of dust - but not enough for something that’s made its home underneath the bed, the kind of stuff you leave there and eventually forget about. Time and wear have done a number on the box, and though it still served its purpose, one could tell that it’s been around for a while.

Jackson carefully swipes at the top, getting his hand dirty in the process. He pats it on his pants - he’ll be taking a shower soon, anyway, and carefully opens the box.

Envelopes of different shapes and sizes greet him. There are cream-colored ones, white-bordered envelopes that span the length of his hand, perfumed envelopes whose scents have faded over the years - there were even themed stationery envelopes, mostly ones with a drawing of Squirtle or Buzz Lightyear somewhere, gifts from fans back then that he didn’t have the heart to throw away.

Jackson takes a moment to stare at the assortment of envelopes. This was twenty years worth of his life in a single box - letters he’d written when he was still stumbling around Korean, trying to learn the unfamiliar language; letters he’d written during days marked by endless hours of training; letters he’d written as the group started gaining traction; letters he’d written at the peak of their careers; letters he’d written as they parted ways; letters he’d written as they moved on with the rest of their lives. 

All of that, in his hands.

He runs his hands over the array of envelopes, hands going over bordered edges, plain edges, big envelopes, medium-sized ones, smaller envelopes. They were all so different, but all of them had the same name written on the front in careful letters.

Jackson takes out the envelope he’d slipped into his jacket earlier, the words he’d been writing earlier carefully tucked inside, for no one to see. He slides a finger under the flap to pull out his letter, the one he hadn’t been able to finish. He skims through its contents before placing it back in the envelope once more. He takes a moment to stare at the envelope, at the  _ ” Jinyoungie~ ❤ ”  _ he’d written in front.

Something plops onto the paper in his hands, and Jackson watches as the heart he quickly doodled in the plane smudges, leaving behind an unrecognizable blob, as if his pen had had an accident, leaving evidence of its mishap behind.

He swipes at his cheek - faintly registering the dampness of his fingers - and places the ruined envelope in the box - just one of many letters he’s written, just one among the thousands of things he’s never told him, just one among the many secrets he’ll be taking to his grave.

He bites his lip and shoves the box underneath the bed, keeping it out of sight, pushing the lingering feelings down to the surface, tampering down the swell of emotions that threaten to burst through his chest.

Maybe one day, he’ll finally get around to doing away with the box for good. He could cut up the letters, shredding them into pieces impossible to put back together, or he could burn them - maybe a bit over the top, but it seemed a fitting way to part with them, to get some sort of closure, to finally leave it all behind.

But for now, it stays there, hidden.

**Author's Note:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/heynineteen) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/___heynineteen)


End file.
